


to be a foreigner in the ascendant plane

by drifterlovemail



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, canon divergency, giving exotics to other people lmao, let mithrax meet mara directly 2019, maras moreso mentioned, mithrax is incredibly important to sjur and vice versa 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifterlovemail/pseuds/drifterlovemail
Summary: Sjur’s advice works, too — Mithrax shoots his arrows quicker than any of his brothers. A hundred leave his hand before he grows tired, and another hundred after that before Sjur grows tired of training for the day. Sjur’s bow is taller than him, and his handle on it is clumsy./the wishender quest, except mithrax gets it like he deserves.i have beef with the gameplay enabled "player character gets every legendary and lore relevant weapon in the universe" aspect of games/destiny, so thats what this is over
Kudos: 31





	to be a foreigner in the ascendant plane

  
With four arms, Mithrax has determined, he could hold two bows.   
“I suppose so.” says Sjur Eido, Queen’s Wrath, whom Queen Mara Sov loves more dearly than anyone that’s ever lived or died. “But if you were smart, you’d utilize the extra strength. Put two arms on the string and pull the string back twice as fast.”  
Mithrax is smart! He’s smart, and so is Sjur Eido, so he’ll take her advice. At least for a little while. Sjur’s advice works, too — Mithrax shoots his arrows quicker than any of his brothers. A hundred leave his hand before he grows tired, and another hundred after that before Sjur grows tired of training for the day. Sjur’s bow is taller than him, and his handle on it is clumsy.  
“Perfect. Now all you need to do is aim.” Sjur tells him, gesturing out to all the arrows in the grass. “You can shoot a thousand a second and it won’t matter if only ten of them kill.”  
The Fallen don’t know this sort of balance. They’ll charge in with brute force and fire or spend their time on one glorious shot. Strength and precision together isn’t something Mithrax knows how to balance. He bites talk of this back; Sjur’s first impression of him had already been lackluster. Instead he sits down in the grass for a moment. The Dreaming City is named true - for all he has seen and heard, Mithrax looks to the horizon and doesn’t see the Dreaming City for the budding warzone or struggling kingdom it is. There’s only peace, and the sun glinting off of the rocks and the Wishender.   
“Siyuriks - take the bow, and show me again.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Viven asks, like she’s whispering a secret. But Viven worries too much and risks too little. “You’ve never been there.”  
“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I viewed the world like that.”  
It’s worrying when Mithrax says things like this.  
“He’ll be fine, Viv. Believe in him every once in awhile.” Chimes in Revo.   
Revo is an Exo that refuses to number herself, and earns Mithrax’s respect for it. He’s finding entertainment in his terrible group of outcasts. They argue on about Viven’s cautiousness and Revo’s lack of it. So Misraaks shuts all his eyes and lets himself settle into their bickering. It’s a long while before he breaks it up.  
“I am going, and I will return soon.”  
Like that, he’s gone. He doesn’t need any gracious goodbye. Mithrax loves his fireteam, and he’ll return to them.

Petra is a watchful eye on the Dreaming City, but even she can watch so much. Mithrax studied as a hostage, and there are more points than that the Taken have weakened. There is a route through tall grass, behind rocks, through broken walls. It’s a beautiful city — that much Mithrax can admit without the shame, now.   
The Ascendant Plane is nothing he’s going to be able to speak of when he returns to Viven and Revo. It feels like a grace, a world he doesn’t belong to but still personally created for him. The sky looks like a deep ink and the whole world feels fogged. Mithrax thinks back to the Titan Pacific Arcology, of its glitter and shiny lights left abandoned. He’d thought that beautiful, too, and now he sees what the universe can truly hold. 

The minotaur is the easy part. There’d been no Vex on Titan, but he’d met enough of them with his fireteam to have an idea what to do. Granted, these aren’t real Vex. Then again, ask Mithrax what they are and he’s just going to shrug and move forward. Everything dies if you think through the functions of them enough. So the minotaur falls with a glorious crash, its mechanic limbs breaking apart from their wiring. The token in his hands begins to flicker into light, pure and bright like nothing in this place is.

He’s seen her statue. Was she there for it’s creation? Or is it simple a tribute, made on assumptions of someone who only knows her as legend? For Sjur Eido is, before anything else, a legend. The Awoken start as legends because they swam with the stars and have to fight to be seen as anything else. Siyuriks and Mithrax share a queen, once again lost to the stars herself. Sjur’s statue shares the strong straight line of her nose and her jaw, the shape of her eyes. So he chooses to believe that their Queen crafted it herself with heart and hand. 

The Ascendant plane is filled with Taken that Mithrax hardly understand, but he knows that they fall with the shot of an arrow as well as anything. A thrall crawls out from behind a rock, and falls from it a moment later. So Mithrax thinks back to how Sjur had taught him well. But Mithrax places an orb where it belongs, and up arises a Fallen Captain. In the dark it would look like him, Mithrax thinks, as it matches the movements of him and all of his brothers. The horror of the plane hits him in waves. He has killed his own, slaughtered them wholesale. But whatever house Eriviks belonged to had forgotten and forsaken him by now, as they have so many. Mithrax can’t ignore what Eriviks is or whoever he used to be — he takes every dash he’d expect a true Fallen would and growls in a matching voice. When Eriviks stops twitching is the only moment Mithrax stops to breathe.

Titan had shown him ogres. Massive beings that barely fit within the Arcology and seemed blind in all their clumsiness. One of Mithrax’s better memories on Titan remains stabbing one directly in an eye. Xavoth is twice the size of the largest ogre he’s met, and bats Mithrax away like a fly with every dive he makes towards. As he considered Eriviks a Fallen through all of his lives, he pins Xavoth’s existence as a personal fault of the Hive. It begins to feel like he’s spent more time dodging Xavoth’s arms and legs than anything else. How long has he been in the Ascendant Plane? Has he ever not been fighting Xavoth? He doesn’t fucking know anymore.   
Mithrax dives down under Xavoth’s arm and behind him, and takes that chance to slice across the ogre’s ankles. It lets out a scream that Mithrax will think of for years after the ogre’s death, or Sjur’s return. The token in his satchel begins glowing and the sight of it feels like being forced to the bench to relax.

Dûl Incaru is a witch, daughter of Savathûn, and mortals should tremble to know her. There’s nothing from her that Mithrax needs, no earnings and no prizes. She is a step in the way between what is left of Sjur Eido, a stone in the river. So Misraaks the Forsaken listens to her shrieks and calls against the world in their struggle. It’s when the Knights rise to meet him that Mithrax accepts there is nothing in this dimension he will ever fully understand, and nothing that he needs to. Were it not for Sjur Eido he never would’ve come, and for any reason but her he will never come again.  
When Dûl Incaru falls to him, she screams and withers to the ground, and Mithrax takes her hand for proof to himself.

“This is where bravery is defined.” Sjur says.  
It isn’t her. Mithrax knows this. But it’s as close as he’ll reach, now. Thus he feels a moment of solidarity with the lost Queen. The sentence still makes him feel weighed for judgement, like a child in class. The tokens make a lovely clink as he drops them into the bowl. Their light diminishes, and the way is lit by the Wishender in front of him. It feels like gold in his hand. The Sjur-That-Isn’t-Sjur speaks again, and instead of a statement it’s to him.  
“I will seek a way home.”  
Where is home to Sjur Eido now? Mithrax had always thought Mara Sov to be her walking haven, and Mara Sov remains lost to the stars. All Mithrax knows is that it isn’t here, and it isn’t with him.   
Mithrax wraps four arms around the Wishender’s grip, focuses his eyes on the deep color of it. The statue of Sjur carved into its limb looks exactly like the one before him. He gazes up at it, this Sjur-That-Isn’t-Sjur, and determines: If Sjur Eido returns to Mara Sov, he will surpass all of the Awoken and be the one to find her.


End file.
